


A Road to Midnight

by BlackMageEljin



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kairi's Grandma is there to complete the tio, M/M, also there are a crap load of FF characters, but i will list thoes with spoiler warnings in chapter notes, shes the same age as them dont worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMageEljin/pseuds/BlackMageEljin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time Xehanort was just another boy on an island dreaming about the outside world. But the future has already been written- and his path has already been laid out for him.</p>
<p>A story about how Xehanort left the island and eventually grew into the cruel man we know today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dive to Heart

**Author's Note:**

> No major spoilers in this chapter- though there are some references to FFI, VI, and VIII but its nothing major and actually Dissidia based. Vanille and Jecht are also there but they're our obligatory island friends.

That was it, the only sensation he could feel- or rather, it was more accurate to say that ‘feeling’ was the only sense he had. There was no light, not a glimmer to be found, so there was nothing to see. There was no sound, no smell- maybe that wasn’t right. Perhaps the air was so thick the smell and taste had simply come full circle, but there was no way for him to tell now- not in this endless abyss…

Until the end made itself abruptly apparent, that is. The moment his feet touched the ground everything else came back to him, heralded in by the bright light his landing seemed to have stirred. He waited, trying to watch for the feather-like dust that had been cast off this new ground to fall again and settle, but instead it faded into the air. It took him a moment to register this, and to verify it he looked to his feet. Not only did he find the floor clean- but found that it was comprised of a glittering mural of stained glass.

The image was something he could not understand the meaning of. A man adorned in full plate mail, his helmet horned like a demon, holding a weapon so large he could not tell if it was meant to be a sword or a lance. And behind him was another horned figure, one that seemed to actually be a demon, not just an armored imitation.

As things were to him he could only see it as a simple piece of elaborate artwork. There was more meaning to it- of that he was sure- given that he found it in a place like this, but he simply lacked the information to understand. It should have been irritating, but to this boy it was exciting. Another mystery to solve… He had always been easily enraptured by such things.

He took a few steps back, trying to see more of the mural, trying to position himself at the ‘bottom’ of it if it had one. He muttered quietly to himself. “What is…”

_The Stalwart of Chaos. He who leads the charge at the edge of the world where time stands still._

The boy leapt back, having not expected an answer to his question for many good reasons. He looked around him, frantic but with purpose, only to find the same abyss greeting him. He looked up, still finding nothing but blackness, yet somehow feeling this was the correct place to look. Perhaps not because he thought the voice was there, but rather understanding that the voice wasn’t _anywhere_.

“Who’s there!?”

The voice chuckled. _Only you and yourself. It’s your heart, after all._

Before he could ask something else, a series of glass steps leading to another pillar in the darkness appeared. It wasn’t the wisest thing, simply following the path laid out to him by some mysterious disembodied voice, but, well, where else did he have to go? Besides, it was against his nature to leave the unknown unexplored.

He continued to walk through the darkness, lead from one pedestal to the next by his mysterious guide. The only explanation he was given was what he assumed to be the title of each mural- the “Phantasmal Harlequin” depicting some kind of mad clown sprouting the wings of an angel, the “Transient Witch” depicting several women with the centermost appearing nearly demonic with long silver hair that formed horns, and so on. This pattern continued on for ten such towers, but when he reached the eleventh…

There were two figures in the middle, strikingly different from those which he had seen so far. They were children- well, they were likely his own age, but something about them was more… childish. Not in a bad way, he just… knew they were more… carefree at heart. They both wore matching black robes, and both wielded strange weapons shaped like keys. How he even assumed they were weapons was beyond him, but he was sure it was the case. Back to back, the two children held their keys out at odd angles- the blonde boy holding his nearly straight up and the black-haired girl down, forming a straight line across the image. Around them were small portraits, each in its own frame with its own motif. There were 12 of them. He took a step back.

It was a clock.

A very strange one, with keys for hands and people instead of numbers, but a clock nonetheless. It all struck him as… extraordinarily familiar, but he couldn’t explain why. He was certain he had never met any of these people, but yet he still felt as though he was gazing upon an old friend. And perhaps oddest of all, the fact that it was a clock at all was familiar. Not the image of this particular clock, but the idea of one, the idea of time itself… But how could an abstract concept feel familiar?

_Because it is something you are connected to, like these people._

Oh. So the voice could read his mind as well. Comforting.

So he was ‘connected’ to these people huh? The clock read five minutes past seven, not anything particularly ominous or foreboding like midnight. Though it didn’t take a genius to figure out it was the people the hands were pointing to that were important. ‘Seven’ was a young man only a few years older than himself, with blue hair and the same striking gold eyes as his own. The only thing particularly out of the ordinary was the large ‘X’ shaped scar that split across his face.

There was a flash.

For a moment, he saw a white room filled with white chairs. His view was spinning around, too much of what he saw was blurred by the motion of it, and what wasn’t was grainy and chopped like old film. But he made out the clear image of that man, fighting against another with red hair- the next portrait on the clock. It was hard to say.

And then it was gone. He stumbled to regain his balance- not that he remembered losing it. He brought a hand to his head and closed his eyes, willing away the pain that had sprouted there. Were those… memories? Or something else? But he had never been to such a place in the past…

_Are you so sure? Perhaps it is simply that you have yet to do so then._

That didn’t make sense. You don’t remember things that have yet to happen- you cannot have memories of the future.

_Why not? Is that not simply what you call a prophecy? It is fate who leaves us with memories of those things which we are meant to do._

So according to the voice these were things that would happen in the future? People he would come to meet? It was an oddly easy thing to accept. How else could he explain the familiarity…

He followed the hands to the ‘one’. The portrait there was of a man in his late twenties, with silver hair and dark skin like his own…

If these were his memories of the future, then was this him? No, that couldn’t be right. But why? Logically it seemed to be the most likely case, but he… knew it was not so. Not completely, at least. Though that made even less sense…

The voice chuckled again. _He is you, and he is not you. In truth, he is Nobody- but don’t worry. It is a concept difficult to comprehend when faced in the present, let alone from the past._

Another set of stairs sprung up from the edge of the ‘one’. It would seem the voice didn’t want to leave him to ponder this too much. He was loathed to admit it, but as he was now, there was no denying things he found in this place could simply be beyond his ability to comprehend. What the voice said was a condolence neatly wrapped in another enigma- he may not know now, but one day he would find the pieces necessary for him to understand. For now, he would press on.

The next pedestal was different- different from the first ten, different from the clock. It was another instinct, one so strong he had no choice but to trust. The background of the mural depicted a single blue floating heart hanging high in the sky, far in the distance where it was surely untouchable. Surrounding it was an abyss, and from that abyss came thousands of… creatures- creatures that looked like walking shadows all with bright yellow eyes. But this image was partially masked by one of… himself. Older, and wielding a key like those children, but undoubtedly it him- and only him, this time. Floating in his own abyss, his eyes closed as though he were asleep. There were emblems in small circles around him, things he had yet to learn the meaning to, but knew he one day would.

“This is the future that has been etched into our heart.”

He looked up with a start. The voice wasn’t coming from the sky anymore, it was coming from across the pillar. And the person who the voice belonged to was…

“What-“ It took his mind a moment to find the correct question, “What are-“

The other him just smirked. “I am you- created from the memories of a time that is now beyond you.”

“…Are you saying… I forgot something?”

“Heh. Were it only that simple.” The other him smiled.

He frowned. “What do you mean by the future that is ‘etched into my heart’?”

The other him took a few steps forward and gestured down to the mural at their feet. “Just take a look. Unlike those before it, this has had the image carved into the very stone of its canvas.”

He looked down, then knelt to look even closer. He was right, it wasn’t just painted glass- thick black lines were carved deep into… whatever strange substance these ‘pedestals’ were really made out of.

There was another flash.

He was in the white room again; there were so many people, all of them fighting. Half of them looked like older versions of himself, and the rest… a… mouse, a boy with silver hair- he had nearly mistaken him for another version of himself- the red haired man, a sleeping boy in red clothes…

There was another flash- he was somewhere else entirely, talking to that boy in the red. The background kept changing, as though to tell him he had spoken to the boy many times. But the sound was too muddied; he couldn’t hope to hear what had been said. The picture only got worse- cutting out until it was just grain and flashes of black.

He was holding his head again, instinctively from the pain the vision had caused.

“It’s impressive. The strength of our heart is still trying to draw back the memories. But even if you catch glimpses now, we will not remember them when we wake up.”

He looked up at the other him- he’d closed the distance between them as he spoke.

“This is a dream.”

He didn't ask it like it was a question, because it was not one. A dream was a more than logical explanation to all of this than anything else he could think of- and if this other him agreed then that settled things.

“Yes, this is a dream. But… do not make the mistake of assuming a dream excludes reality.”

He opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but his voice died when he realized the other him had locked his gaze with something behind him- something very large judging by the angle. When he looked over his shoulder he found a giant shadow-like being rising out from the depths of his own shadow, looming over the edge of the pedestal. He scrambled to his feet, facing the monster and somewhat lamely holding his fists out in front of him. He could barely hold his own against another person, what he expected to do against a giant monster with his bare hands was beyond him.

He stared up at the dark creature.

It stared at him.

He lowered his arms.

“Giving up?” the other him asked.

“What is there to gain from fighting something I do not understand?”

“Heh.”

He stepped closer to it. “It’s not as though it’s thrown the first blow.”

“I should have expected nothing less from myself. But… we had always had trouble learning one of life’s most basic lessons…”

A pool of darkness appeared at his feet and he began to sink. He struggled, and then began to sink faster. The other him simply walked away, his footsteps echoing louder than they should have.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

His response was almost automatic, having heard the line from too many people too many times.

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

He stopped struggling. The darkness of the unknown was not something to be feared, it was something to explore. He looked over his shoulder to meet his own gaze.

“Do not forget those words.” The other him had turned to face him properly, speaking from the opposite side of the mural.

“The Darkness is etched into our hearts, immovable in our fate, and it has been an inseparable part of us from the beginning. We have no reason to fight it.”

The other him watched as he sank deeper, pausing in his speech before continuing. “To fear it would be unfathomable.”

He tried to turn himself, but it seemed like it was impossible now. He craned his neck to look back at the other him, but he could only barely follow him out of the corner of his eye.

“The Darkness is our strength, and within it lies all the answers we seek. That’s why…”

It had covered his eyes- he couldn’t see anything now, but he could still hear his voice that did not really belong to him.

_You must not chase after the Light._

\--

“Xehanort!”

He awoke with a start, sitting up wide-eyed as he came crashing back down to reality. After that it only took him a moment to find his bearings, running a hand over his eyes and sighing.

“Vanille.” The single word spoken at monotone somehow managed to relay a dozen more messages to the cheerful girl he had yet to even bother facing. Of course, she’d ignore most of those in favor of giggling when her overly serious friend yawned and rubbed his eyes despite himself.  
  
“You’re hopeless! What time did you go to bed anyway?”  
  
“…Sometime after the sun rose, I think…” He honestly couldn’t remember exactly when he’d ‘gone to bed’. He’d been so absorbed in what he’d been working on he’d fallen asleep at his desk and woke up an hour or so later to crawl into his bed, barely with enough energy to change into pajamas. It was a rather… unfortunate habit of his, he supposed. Had his friends not shown up every day to drag him along to the island, these days of summer would surely see him keeping quite the nocturnal schedule.

“You know it doesn’t matter how good your grades are, teachers’re gonna yell at ya if you zonk out in class, Mr. Smarty Pants.” Xehanort raised his head to look up at the boy who had apparently joined them, though Vanille beat him to any witty remark he might have made.

“You’re just jealous because they said they’d kick you off the ball team if don’t pass math!”

“It doesn’t make sense! The hell does math have to do with Blitz Ball anyway?”  
  
“Everything.” Xehanort wasn’t sure if he was face-palming or just rubbing his eyes again. “Literally everything, Jecht.”

“And that’s why I got you, Teach.”  
  
Vanille giggled again. “So now it’s ‘Teach’, huh?”

“Aw, wadda you know.” Jecht crossed his arms and scowled (because The Jecht did not pout, not even for Vanille). Of course this just lent itself to more giggles, and this time it would seem her laughter was contagious; the two boys soon found themselves unable to resist their own small fits of laughter.

After the laughter had died down, he finally stood and faced his two friends. Vanille- orange hair pulled into pigtails as always, the many skirts of her hand-made clothes blowing in the ocean breeze. And Jecht- tall, tanned from too much time in the sun- unlike Xehanort’s own dark ashen skin- and lacking anything that could be called a proper shirt despite still having a sleeve. Just one. They both smiled at him, the gentle sound of the tide lapping over the sand filling the silence. He smiled in turn.

And a strange dream was all but forgotten.


	2. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No stray FF game spoilers quite yet, just more of Jecht and Vanille being around. Also I plan on continuing to update on Wednesdays for those who are curious.

Three friends sat around a very old tree.

Jecht and Xehanort had lived on these quiet islands their entire lives. They had always been quite the odd pair- the boisterous, athletic socialite and the quiet, studious recluse- but somehow they had remained close friends since they had been old enough to walk. Together they had explored every inch of their islands. If you had to define the thing that brought them together, it would be easiest to describe it as a mutual thirst for adventure.

And then there was Vanille.

It had been a year or so now, since she had washed up on their shores. Xehanort and Jecht had been the ones to find her- Jecht diving into the ocean to bring her to shore and Xehanort providing the base medical attention necessary. She had come to quickly, but with no memories of whence she came.

Or so she said, but Xehanort knew it wasn’t his place to pry for answers.

The fact that she had something to hide was just another piece of the puzzle.

Whether it had been the result of a lonely girl clinging to her saviors or a boy carefully following the thread of his newest mystery is unclear, but in the end she had been adopted into their circle, and they spent the days as though Vanille had been there from the very beginning.

Xehanort looked to the horizon where the sun disappeared into the ocean.

“Your home is out there somewhere.”

Vanille watched her own feet, swinging off the edge of the trunk. “Probably.”

“Wadda ya mean ‘probably’? You had to come from somewhere.” Jecht piped up from his spot lounging against the part of the tree that curved up again.

“Yeah…” Her reply was quiet, and the sadness edged into it despite her.

“We’ll find it. Someday…” Xehanort tried to reassure his friend, feeling responsible for bringing the topic up in the first place.

But Vanille only smiled a small smile and brought her hands up to form her usual little fidget- pressing the tips of her forefingers together while crossing her pinkies over, thumbs sticking out and away. It was something she always did when thinking about something seriously.

“That’s alright. It’d be fine if we just stayed here.” There were deeper meanings to those words- Xehanort couldn’t quite pin down what they were, and they flew over Jecht’s head completely.

“Yeah, right! How boring would that be? We’re gonna find that place for sure!”  
  
Vanille couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the simpleness of his response. “What do you suppose it’s like, then?”

“What- it’s gotta be another island somewhere far away, right?”

“Not necessarily…” Xehanort brought a hand to his chin while he thought about the possibilities.

“If it ain’t an island, than what?”

“A boat.” Xehanort nodded to himself.

“….A boat?” Jecht raised an eyebrow.

“In theory, a small civilization could develop a means to support themselves without ever needing to return to shore. With a vessel large enough, they could grow the materials necessary for repairs on board. Or- perhaps they have developed a means to produce a useable substance from the ocean’s dep-”

“Nerd.”

Xehanort sighed. Vanille giggled.

“…At least it’s more interesting than just another island.”

“You might as well have said ‘mermaids’.”

“Mermaids are the things of fairytales.”

“And boat-people are the things of you readin’ too many science fiction books!”

Xehanort chuckled. “I’ll give you that.”

There was a small silence. Jecht broke it.

“…Maybe she’s from another world.”

“…So she’s an alien now?”

“You’re the one who said an island was too boring!”

“What kind of world do you think it’d be like?” Vanille abruptly interjected into their little argument. She was looking off into the sunset, swinging her legs again.

“Hm…” Xehanort closed his eyes and tried to imagine. “…It would be hard to say.”

“What, you can come up with boat-people but not another world?”

“There are too many variables. Physics itself may not be constant-”

“Forget I asked!” Jecht headed off the impending science lecture before it began.

“What about you?” Xehanort looked over his shoulder, up at the other boy.

It was Jecht’s turn to close his eyes and wonder. “…Maybe, something like a huge city. Somethin’ bigger than anything we’d ever seen in this backwater place! With thousands of people and buildings so big they touch the sky. An’ everything all lit up at night- _especially_ the blitz ball stadium! One bigger than this whole Island! “

Xehanort rolled his eyes.

Vanille giggled. “Of course there’s got to be blitz ball- you’d be the star player!”

“Yer damn right I’d be!”

There was another pause.

“…But a place like that’s just a dream.”

“Maybe.” Vanille looked down at her feet again. “Maybe not.”

“…What about you, Vanille?” Xehanort asked.

“Huh?”

“What kind of world would you want to come from?”

“Oh.” Her eyes sought out the answer in the sunset, before they fell to her hands as they reformed the pinkie-crossing fidget.

“I think…” She closed her eyes. “Someplace full of wilderness- endless forests and mountains, and people who lived off the land. I’d…” She opened her eyes, and her smile was sadder than it had been before. “…like a place like that.”

Even Jecht realized there was more truth in those words than should be possible. But he also knew better than to try and make that truth any clearer.

“Feh! Sounds like too much work to me.”

Vanille’s smile brightened again. “I suppose it would be.”

“He’s only saying that because he couldn’t live a day without electricity.”

“I can survive in the great outdoors just fine!”

“Perhaps, but you would probably bore to death.”

“Feh!”

They all laughed.

A few more moments of content silence passed after that. It ended when Jecht sat up abruptly. “Well, it’s gettin’ late- time to head on home.”

He made to hop off of his perch on the tree, but was stopped by Vanille. “Wait!”

Jecht nearly fell off the trunk from the start. “Huh!?”

Xehanort turned to look at her as well.

“We have to stay until the sun sets!”

“Why?” She looked at Xehanort almost blankly for a moment, as though deciding how she wanted to answer.

“…It’s a secret!” She beamed.

“Huh?” Vanille always seemed to have a knack for making him lose his eloquence.

“Guess we gotta wait then.” Jecht leaned back against the trunk and made himself comfortable. He obviously didn’t have any complaints.

Xehanort was most certainly curious, but he was also patient. He nodded and turned back to the sunset, wondering what surprise Vanille could possibly have that needed them to wait until nightfall.

\--

Time passed and the sun slowly disappeared beyond the water. The silence was filled with Jecht’s pestering of ‘can we see it yet?’ and other similar questions every so often, but they were all met with Vanille’s gentle scolding. It wasn’t until the last glimmers of twilight had faded that she suddenly jumped from her perch, joyously declaring, “It’s time!”

Before either of the boys could ask anything she spoke again. “Wait here.” And with that she ran off to the seaside shack. The boys waited, the silence filled with the questions they knew they both wanted to ask, but knew the other wouldn’t have the answers for.

She came back carrying a small crate. It was filled to the brim with something, but neither one of them could make out exactly what it was from a distance. She ran around the tree and set the crate down in front of them, standing behind it hand holding her arms out wide. “Ta-da!”

Jecht had already jumped down from his perch and stepped forward to examine the box's contents.

“Fireworks?” He was already grinning.

She clapped her hands together and held them up to her face. “That’s right!”

Xehanort walked closer as well, tilting his head to the side. “What’s the occasion?”

Vanille’s face went blank, like she was confused by the question, before it brightened again. “There doesn’t need to be an occasion, silly!” She knelt down and fished out a specific pack- sparklers- and a lighter, then gingerly fished out a single stick and handed it to Xehanort.

“You need to learn to be more spontaneous! Not everything needs a reason!”

“She’s right, ya know. Sometimes you’re too busy asking ‘why’ to enjoy the things life gave ya!”

Xehanort accepted the sparkler, but raised an eyebrow to his friends’ commentary. “You… think?”

They both nodded.

“Yep!”

“Definitely.”

Xehanort scratched the back of his neck self-consciously.

They all laughed again.

\--

They stayed out lighting off fireworks for next few hours. Most of them were small- tiny sparklers, fountains, little things you light on the ground. But there were a few… not so small ones. They were sure some adult was going to scold them for that later, but that would be later. For now it was just the three of them and the fireworks.

“Aren’t you glad you waited?” Vanille beamed at the other two as a small mortar went off over their heads.

“Damn straight! There ain’t no point in setting these bad boys off during the day, after all.” Jecht fired another.

“Eeexactly!” Vanille nodded. “There are some things that can only shine in the dark.” This time, she looked rather pointedly at Xehanort. When his only response was a confused expression, she continued. “Right, Mr. Night Owl?”

Ah, right. His sleep schedule, that’s what she meant…

“Of course.” He looked up as the next firework went off.

Her smile softened this time. “Don’t you forget that, ok?”

Xehanort looked back at her, but she was already focused on the fireworks. It made him unsure if she had actually said anything in the first place…

\--

It wasn’t long after that they ran out of fireworks. The three cleaned up as much of the debris as they could in the moonlight, leaving the crate in the seaside shack for anything else they might find with the help of the afternoon sun. And then they made their way to the docks, readying their rowboats for the journey home.

“Well, see ya tomorrow- same time same place.” Jecht gave his farewell from his boat as it drifted away from the dock. Vanille and Xehanort responding in turn.

“Uh-huh!”

“Of course.”

Jecht rowed away and the other two were left to finish up their own departures. It wasn’t long before Xehanort was ready cast off himself, but when he turned to say his goodbyes to Vanille, he found her simply standing at the end of the dock- staring off at the reflections of the stars in the sea while her pinkies were crossed in their tell-tale way.

“…Vanille?”

“Hm?”

Xehanort frowned and retied the mooring before joining her at the end of the dock. “You’ve been acting strange today.”

“Have I?” She didn’t look at him- she hardly moved at all.

“Is something wrong?” He tried to get a better look at her face, but her eyes were shadowed by her bangs.

What little bit of her expression he could see seemed to falter, but it only lasted for a second- quickly turning to resolve. In the next moment her chin was up and her hands were clasped behind her back, a bright smile formed neatly across her features. “Nothing’s wrong! You’re just imagining things, silly!”

But in the pale light of the stars a perfectly placed smile was hard to see. That was probably the only reason, he realized, the he noticed for the first time the small faults in her voice. It was something he knew he’d heard before, but never noticed. They all knew she used that smile like a shield, but this was the first time he had ever reached beyond its impenetrable walls. There really were some things you could only notice in dark…

“… You don’t want to go back to where you are from, is that it?”

Vanille started and then looked away, as though she had been accused of committing some unspeakable crime- not that he had asked the question in any such way.

“I…”

Xehanort tilted his head in response to her lack of one, not understanding why she seemed to think he’d be upset with her.

“What’s wrong?”

Vanille searched for words carefully, seemingly afraid to answer. “…Aren’t you mad?”

“Should I be?”

She took a step back. “I lied to you!”

“…About remembering?” He turned to the ocean and shrugged. “Your past is your own business. You had a good reason…” He turned to face her again, offering a small smile. “…right?”

She was shocked, but rather than reassured, she curled in on herself as though the guilt had become even heavier.

“You’re…” She turned away from him, facing the ocean once again. “…a kind person.”

He didn’t think he was being particularly kind- he’d only been stating facts. “As are you.”

And there was the guilty expression again. He didn’t understand it. But he wouldn’t have long to ponder it this time, as it quickly faded to one of determination fixed on the horizon.

“Even though… I know you would hate it- trapped in a tiny place like this, I…!”

Her gaze fell again, her hands falling back into their pinkie cross. “I wish… we could stay here forever… the three of us…”

And again Xehanort didn’t understand. Surely, there was more to this than the simple contradiction of her wanting to stay, and Jecht and himself wanting to go. Was she still hiding the whole truth? Or maybe it was that simple…

“Just because we do not want the same thing, does not mean we cannot be friends.” He turned to her as he spoke. “And even though it would not be my first choice… there would be worse fates, than being stuck here with the two of you.” He offered a small smile again.

And finally Vanille smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was… bittersweet, like she had somehow found meaning in his words that even he did not know.

“I’m sure… your fate is something more interesting than that.”

Xehanort opened his mouth to comment, but Vanille hurriedly continued.

“It’s late! We really should head back now.” And just like that the smile that was a wall around her heart had returned.

In the end, he couldn’t tell if he’d cheered her up or made things worse.

“Right…”

Quietly, they both went back to the boats and were soon on their way. As Xehanort made his way back to the main island, he could not help but try to analyze the strange conversation- pick it apart for the missing pieces.

Vanille knew many things, but for some reason she seemed to feel it was her burden to bear alone…

When he thought about it, he’d had a strange dream about it, hadn’t he? Or at least, he’d spoken of fate in that dream…

Though he could only remember bits and pieces now….

That mural, wasn’t that supposed to be his fate?

That pillar it had been carved into…

Had it been blank? Or had there once been something else entirely painted on that stone…


	3. Stormy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no spoilers yet still just some vague vague references to XIII and X

Vanille wandered into the secret place by herself.  
It had been a long day for the three friends. They had spent it finishing up construction on their tree house. But Vanille had something else on her mind, so when the three split to gather more materials she took the opportunity to visit a certain place to think about certain things.  
But when she reached the innermost chamber she found she was not alone.  
A lone hooded figure had been waiting there. And she knew who that figure was and what it meant. But she couldn’t bring herself to worry about that now- she was too preoccupied with the tattered state of the person before her. It reminded her too much of her own fate. 

“…You’ve been reduced to this.” She took the end of a sleeve where a hand should have been.  
“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, it’s all my fault…” A tear escaped her and she could only think it was a miracle she had any tears left. 

The robed figure placed his other handless sleeve over her hands and shook his head.  
\--  
Once they finally finished their tree house the three friends packed up and returned home. Vanille was overly cheery if anything to overcompensate for the melancholy of a particular chance meeting- not that the boys weren’t used to her doing such things. But they knew better than to pry or question, so in the end everyone went home with no one any wiser to any fateful encounters she may have had.  
And the robed figure never bothered to reach out to anyone else. Why would he? The future had already been written, after all.  
\--  
The only light seen in Xehanort’s room was a small lamp at his desk. He reluctantly closed his book as he reached the final page. Having finished its story meant he once again had nothing to do. He had hoped that reading would have made him at least a bit drowsy, but alas, he found himself once again wide awake at the early hours. Without something to read he was going to have some trouble sitting still- not that laying in his bed unable to sleep sounded very appealing in the first place. He’d probably get in trouble if he got caught but… Well, exploring the island at night was always more satisfying than during the day. He assumed it was because the nocturnal life was more mysterious to them still.  
So with a plan of action Xehanort carefully crawled out of his window and made his way down to the docks.  
An hour passed as Xehanort busied himself with exploring places he’d only seen in the daytime. If he was lucky maybe he’d find some sort of night flowering plant or some such.   
But he was not lucky. He was rather distinctly the opposite of lucky, because as luck would have it it had begun to rain.  
No, not rain, Xehanort corrected.  
It had begun to storm.  
At least the tree house was finished. He’d be able to take shelter there… and hopefully the wind wouldn’t pick up enough to knock it down.   
So now rather than being cooped up in his room with nothing to do, he was cooped up in a tree house with nothing to do, now with the added bonus of being sopping wet.  
He didn’t have a watch, so he didn’t know how long he’d been stuck there waiting out the storm when he saw someone walking across the beach. He darted forward to try and see the person more clearly, though it was hard to see much of anything at a distance through the sheets of rain.   
It was Vanille.   
How she had even gotten to the island in this weather was beyond him. Did she arrive shortly after he had? But why didn’t she look for him if she saw his boat at the docks… Maybe they had just missed each other? But that seemed unlikely…  
He began his careful climb down the wet ladder to try and catch up with his friend.   
When he reached the bottom he could see three boats at the docks.  
Jecht was here too?  
How had they all wound up here together? It seemed too much to be a coincidence…  
Was it fate? Maybe it had to be…  
\--  
When he finally caught up to Vanille, she was on the small island with the paopu tree.  
Her back was facing him and her skirts and hair whipped around in the wind wildly.   
Before he had a chance to call out her name, she spoke. “I’m so sorry!”  
“What?”  
“It’s all my fault!” She finally turned to face him. She was distraught- and it was almost strange to see. Was this what was behind her smiling mask the whole time?  
“I wished… we could all be together! Forever! But I…” There was the pinkie-crossing fidget as usual. The wind was still whipping her clothes about, and now that she was facing forward it revealed something. It was… a tattoo? It was some sort of symbol, but Xehanort could barely make it out between the wind and the rain.  
“…I can’t. I have to go back to her! Even though you’re both my friends… She’s so much more than that to me! That’s why…”  
Something strange began to form between them. At first Xehanort had thought it was just a puddle but soon he realized that it wasn’t water. It was… darkness. Like in his dream. Seeing the thing in reality made the memory clearer…  
“Why I… I have to go back!”   
Xehanort looked between the pool of darkness and Vanille. Was this a portal then, would it take them away from this world and to Vanille’s?  
“Then, we’ll go together.” He took a step forward and reached out his hand to her. But she didn’t move to take it- only gave him a sad smile, as though she knew some flaw in his logic that he did not.  
“Thank you. For everything.” It sounded too much like a goodbye. He didn’t like it.  
“This is everything you ever wanted isn’t it?” He looked blankly at her. It was true; it was a way to see new places, an adventure, a way to find answers to his questions.   
“Then don’t let me hold you back!” A pause.  
“We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it!”  
Xehanort slowly let his hand drop. He smiled. “I’ll find you in the new world, I promise.”  
He couldn’t tell if it was a mask or genuine, but Vanille smiled.   
Xehanort stepped into the darkness.  
\--  
Jecht wandered the island looking for his friends. He saw Vanille wander out close to when the storm had been starting. Now it was raining cats and dogs and he wasn’t sure if his dainty friend (though he knew she was much stronger than she looked) was holding up in the nasty weather. At the very least he found her boat, so she had made it to the island safely.   
He was wandering along the beach by the obstacle course when he saw it.  
A huge wave, but there seemed to be something in it, something reflecting under the water.   
He should have run- grabbed ahold of a tree or something, but he couldn’t- the size was so great that the hopelessness of escape had rooted him to where he was.   
He felt the water wash over him.   
And when he woke up, it would be in another world.


End file.
